Bridge at War

8/7/2019 Bridge at War

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© Trevor Hopkins 2006, 2007220

He smiled, then continued, “Your task now I to get well, as soonas possible. We’ve an urgent need for a man of your calibre, and I’vegot several interesting posts I’d like you to consider.”

Tom tried to lean forward, but Fred intervened.“No. Get well first, then worry about the future.”His cohort from the Guardian School arrived, bearing the

traditional gifts of flowers and fruit for the convalescent. Ifor andMarjorie chattered on with hardly a break, wanting to know thesmallest details. Tom told them everything he could remember,although held back on some of his speculations – like Brasham’s realrole, for example.

Stan and Charlie were more reserved, as always, but sat wide-eyed as he explained about tracking down Hamet with the aid of

magic which had probably been buried for decades. Sophiainterjected with characteristically blunt questions occasionally, andnodded approvingly at Tom’s description of events.

One of the happier moments of his convalescence was a visit fromAlistair. He was accompanied, to Tom’s complete lack of surprise,by Yise. They sat together, holding hands, and told him that theywere planning a wedding, in the spring, and that they wanted Tom tobe the best man. Tom accepted, with tears in his eyes, and he graspedhis old friend’s hand as warmly as he could manage before accepting

a kiss on the cheek from Yise.Alistair then held up the pendant which, to Tom’s surprise, wasstill glowing with the subtle green of the sprite within.

“Bram and I didn’t even get to the bridge before the battlestarted,” he explained, “Then we saw your flare from the tower, andguessed – correctly, as it turned out – what was being attempted.”

He smiled at his fiancée.“Which is just as well,” he continued, “Yise tells me if I had taken

it to Lyndesfarne, I would not have been able to bring it back throughthe barrier. So this” – he twirled the necklace thoughtfully – “is stillone of the few working magical artefacts in this world.”

Yise took it from his fingers.“Look here,” she said to Tom, pointing out the strange characters

on the stone, “Agrean writing. This pendant’s probably been in thisworld for years – probably hidden by some refugee cut off from theOther World when the Siberian crossing was closed.”

“If it’s Agrean,” Tom asked, “How come my gestures worked?”Yise laughed.“It’s very simple. There’s much more similarity in the language

of magical gestures than there is in the written or spoken languages,”



© Trevor Hopkins 2006, 2007 221

she explained, “So you can still use magic in foreign lands, even if you can’t speak to anyone.”

Tom resolved to learn more about the Other World, everything hecould. It seemed like a place where anything could happen.




Chapter Forty

With the resilience of youth and a fair display of will-power, itwas not long before Tom was up and out of bed. He never had been agreat one for lying around at the best of times and very muchpreferred to be doing something, anything, instead.

With his leg in plaster, he found it a bit trying hobbling aboutwith the aid of crutches, and found himself sitting around in therecuperation wing or, quite often during the late summer, on one of the benches set on the lawns outside.

The ache in his head eased rapidly, although the rest of his bodypained him on occasion. His legs and lower arms had been badlyscratched where the gorse and hawthorns thorns had pierced hisclothing, but these wounds healed rapidly. The one constant irritationwas the itching of his skin inside the plaster cast on his leg, in placeshe just could not reach.

He continued to receive a stream of visitors which ameliorated thefeelings of boredom and uselessness that his enforced inaction hadbrought on.

One visitor he had been expecting was Sergeant Brasham. TheSergeant strolled casually across the lawns one afternoon andenquired politely about his health. After several fairly stilted andplatitudinous exchanges, Brasham knelt down and spoke quietly.

“I know you’ve got your suspicions about me, about my otherwork,” he began, “And I also know you’ve been discreet about ourconversations so far.”

Tom nodded.“I would very much like to encourage you to keep that particular

piece of intelligence under your hat, as it were. As with any, shall wesay, unusual private speculations that you might have.”

“I do understand,” Tom replied carefully, “And I think you canrely on my discretion.”

Brasham looked at him for a long moment, then nodded sagely.“Good, good,” he murmured, “So, get well soon.”With that, the Sergeant blithely strode off the way he had come.Briz also visited him on several occasions, once accompanied by

Yellez. Bram’s mother was effusive in her praise for Tom, andrepeatedly emphasised her desire to welcome him once again as a

guest in her house.




“After all,” she explained in a motherly fashion, “You’ll need toget your strength up, and I remember how much you enjoyedmealtimes when you first visited.”

Tom was genuinely heartened by this invitation and expressed histhanks profusely, promising to take up her kind invitation as soon ashe was reasonably mobile again.

Even old Ged, the dragon-hunter he had encountered in theDragon’s Nest, turned up one morning. There was no mistaking the

jaunty stride of the old man as he approached from the direction of the stables having, Tom presumed, begged a lift from the causeway insome car or truck.

“Ged,” Tom welcomed the hunter, “What brings you over thisside of the crossing.”

“Oh, I’ve some errands here at the School,” the other man repliedslightly evasively, indicated the buildings behind him, “And I’veheard tell of your escapades.”

Tom wondered if there was more to the old man than met the eye.He later learned that one of the innovations Fred proposed tointroduce into the curriculum at the Grange was classes on dragonsand how to repel them. Despite the misgivings he had earlierexpressed to Tom, Fred apparently felt comfortable in asking Ged toteach what he knew about the dangerous beasts.

One visitor he did not expect, and indeed did not even speak to,was the mysterious Irish lady that he and his companions hadencountered in that market in Alnwick last year. He had been sittingoutside, dozing in the autumn sunshine, when she emerged from theclumps of rhododendrons and laurels that encircled the lawns.

The mystic stood leaning on her staff with an appearance, Tomcould now see, very much like one of the Messengers. He saw herlooking at him rather sternly, and he returned the stare. Havinggained his full attention, she smiled regally and nodded once in whatTom took to be approval, then stepped back into the bushes anddisappeared.

Tom had been thinking about that strange dream he hadexperienced while he was unconscious. He had begun to wonder if perhaps his memory of the incident had been suppressed by somemagical means, and he was increasingly determined to find out whathappened to his parents in 1927 or whenever it was.

He had mentioned something about dreaming about his parents toBram and Briz, in one of several de-briefing sessions at the Grange.Father and son had listened silently to what Tom had to say, Bram




glancing meaningfully at his father when they heard about themelting glass marble.

“Well,” Briz said when Tom had finished, “It does sound likesomething we might do to protect the innocent, but I don’t knowwhat happened, exactly. Before my watch, as it were.”

Bram looked as if he was about to say something, but Brizcontinued quickly.

“However, I’m prepared to look into it or, more precisely, getyoung Bram here to look into it. Start in the library at home,” hesaid, now addressing his son, “And work from there.”

Bram was his frequent companion during this period, deliveringnear-daily reports on what had happened to Tarm and Markham. Onone occasion, he explained that there had been considerable

investigation into the Major’s background.Apparently, Markham had been marked out early in his career as

an able young Army officer and was soon seconded, under someobscure arrangements Bram could not quite explain, into theGuardian organisation in the early Nineteen Thirties. He hadremained in this role until just before the outbreak of hostilities inEurope, which had probably seemed suitably heroic at the time.

The then-Captain Markham had attained a supposedlydistinguished military service during the conflict itself, although a

closer investigation – as far as it was possible from the occasionallyconfused reports from that time – suggested that he had beeninvolved in very little actual fighting.

“So the upshot of all this,” Bram concluded, “Was that the Boardswere prepared to put Markham in a position of trust.”

“Was there no doubt?” Tom asked.“It seems not,” Bram replied sadly, “His exemplary record from

before the War, together with being a decorated war hero, meant thathe was beyond suspicion.”

A few days later, Bram returned to the hospital wing at theGrange.

“There’s another piece of news which I feel I must give you,”Bram said, rather solemnly, “Although, to be frank, I’m not sure howyou’ll take it. But, please be calm.”

Needless to say, with an introduction like that, Tom was alreadyon tenterhooks. He resolved to keep a composed appearance,whatever bombshell the other man was about to drop.

“The first thing you need to know was that Brad – your father –was from Lyndesfarne.”

Tom considered this thoughtfully for a few moments.




“I’d wondered about that, after my dream,” he replied eventually,“So it was actually true?”

“It was,” Bram confirmed, “And, he was an agent for the Board of Control.”

“Like you?” Tom asked bluntly.Bram nodded.“And, like you, with access to magic which really does work in

this world?”Bram froze, seeming unable to look Tom in the eye for a moment.

It occurred to Tom that there was something magical going on here –that the other man could not this question even if he wanted to.

“I can’t answer that,” he said quietly.He shook his head uncomfortably.

“Anyway,” Bram resumed, after a moment to recover, “It turnedout that Brad was a distant relative of mine, a third cousin onceremoved, or something.”

Tom gasped.“So we’re related too?”“Yes,” Bram confirmed, “In an exceedingly distant way. Not that

this is unusual. The same families have been preoccupied by lookingafter the crossing for generations.”

“Well,” Tom said slowly, “I’m pleased to make your

acquaintance, cousin.”He extended his hand. Bram grasped his outstretched palm, hiswry smile extending itself over his face. Tom grinned back.

“So, tell me more, cousin,” he said.Bram nodded.“It seems that your father met your mother during one of his

extended stays in your world,” Bram resumed, “And we know thatthey married and you are the result.”

He paused for a moment, looking suddenly sombre.“But there was a reason that Brad had been spending so much

time in the vicinity of Long Benton. And it turns out that this had todo with our friend Markham.”

Tom gasped.“What?” he cried, “But that was years ago!”“Right enough. Markham’s been playing a double game for a

long time.”Bram explained that the Boards in Lyndesfarne had discovered

that Agrea was placing agents in the Armed Forces in Britain, at thetime when it was becoming clear to almost all observers that some

kind of military conflict in Europe was inevitable. The military base




on the common at Long Benton was a particular target, as it had been– correctly – predicted that it would act as a recruitment centre in theevent of hostilities.

“So, Brad was finding out more about this,” Bram went on, “And,later, Lizzie too. But somehow they got too close and werediscovered. And that’s why they had to go on the run.”

“And they left me with Granny,” Tom breathed.“I’m afraid so,” the other man replied, “It must have seemed like

the safest thing to do. And, let’s face it, it worked – no one seems tohave recognised your connection to all this.”

“Is that why Markham was worried about me?” Tom asked.“Perhaps,” Bram conceded, “But he could not have been sure of

your identity. After all, your surname – the one you have grown up

with – is that of your Grandma. It’s not that uncommon, after all.”“But you know what happened to my parents?” Tom asked

anxiously.Bram shook his head sadly.“We don’t,” he said softly, “It’s a complete mystery. They just

seemed to have vanished. They’ve made no contact with anyone thatI’ve been able to track down. Of course, that might have beensensible, in their position – trust no one, perhaps emigrate to a far partof the world and avoid anything to do with magic, as least as far as

possible.”“What do you mean, as far as possible?”Bram shrugged.“If they’re still alive, they must have been hidden from Finders,”

he said quietly.“Finders?” Tom exclaimed. This aspect has not occurred to him.Bram reached into his pocket and drew out the pendant that

Alistair had found hidden in the ditch.“I talked with Alistair,” he said, “Explained something of the

position. He wants you to have this.”“What for?”“If they’re alive, then they will still be magically hidden. But

we’re going to spread the word that the Agrea plot has been rumbled,that Markham is in custody. If Brad and Lizzie have any contactswith my world, they’ll hear eventually, and may risk removing themagic which hides them. So, keep it with you, wear it around yourneck always. Think of your mother sometimes – you remember thegestures?”

Bram paused. Tom nodded slowly.

“It’s just possible you will just be able to see your parents again.”



The End

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Bridge at War

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